


Adrenaline Mistakes

by Asterrious



Series: Stories from the Outback [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, My Junkrat is always trans, Trans Junkrat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:41:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterrious/pseuds/Asterrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junkrat rides an adrenaline high into new territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenaline Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by tumblr user fucking-garbagecan.

“Okay, so just… Just hear me out on this, right? Like, listen afore ya react, keep an open mind an’ shit like that…”

Junkrat danced around the room, careful to keep himself out of Roadhog’s reach. Nothing would stop the other if he really wanted to get at the younger junker, but hopefully his next sentence wouldn’t be answered with a hook around his neck. 

“What if ya… Took off your mask for this mission?”

Once the words were out of his mouth, he automatically flinched away, arms coming up to defend his head. Junkrat stayed in that position for several seconds, waiting for the other shoe to drop, before he slowly peeked over his shoulder, raising one leg in case he had to kick Roadhog away from him.

Hog was staring at him- that was for certain. While it was hard to read his facial expression beneath the mask, he’d gotten really good at reading the other’s body language. His hands were away from any weapons, which was a great sign, but the bomber didn’t like the way his hands were clenching beneath the cuffs of his custom tailored suit.

“Ya just kinda… Stick out, yaknow? We’re never gonna blend with ya lookin’ like ya just stepped offa battlefield.”

Complete, icy silence. Roadhog didn’t even breathe as his eyes bored holes into Junkrat’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know we got next ta no chance of blendin’ in anyway, but it ain’t helpin’. They’re all gonna be dead by the end of tha’ night anyway, what harm could it do beyond a coupla hours of bein’ uncomfortable?”

The lack of response or breath was getting a little unnerving, and Junkrat slowly loosened out of the protective hold he’d tucked himself into. His hands slid over the fabric of his own suit, tugging out the wrinkles way too hard and almost ripping the sleeves in the process. It didn’t help when Roadhog suddenly moved, causing him to jump at the unexpected movement. The piece under Junkrat’s long fingers came away with a loud tearing sound and he was left staring at the torn sleeve, suddenly feeling very tired by this mission before it had even begun.

“Guess I ain’t suited for this thing, eh?” 

Giggling, he avoided looking straight at Hog as the other man began to unbuckle the straps for his mask, slowly letting it fall away. Junkrat had only seen this sight once before, months earlier, but he tried not to stare to avoid making the other man uncomfortable. It was hard, given the fact that he wanted to look forever: the strong jaw, large nose, rich brown eyes… He’d actually dreamed of Mako’s face a few times, though you’d only be able to draw that out of him under torture. Their relationship had been changing for a while, but now he really felt it; before he’d never have had the courage to make such a suggestion, and before Roadhog would never have done more than scoff. 

“Roight! Okay!” Junkrat clapped his hands together to dispel the awkward silence that had settled upon the pair, rounding on the desk he’d turned into a workbench. Slipping small grenades into the pockets of his suit, Rat rooted around in the drawers before he pulled out several larger charges. These were placed in a bag carefully, newspapers stuffed between them to act as padding in case the journey got a little rough. He had the detonator tucked safely in a hidden pocket on the inside of his jacket, but one little jostle and there would be pieces of them flying higher than teenagers alone on a weed farm. 

The thought sent a tingle of excitement down his spine. Jamie loved knowing that he held the power explosions in his singed little paws. Watching a bomb form underneath his hands, fingers dancing as they placed the wires in all the correct places, poured powder or gas into the appropriate place, carefully closed it up and painted his signature onto his art… The feeling was like nothing else in the world. Rivaled only by watching the resulting explosion from close by. Junkrat wasn’t himself until there was soot blackening his face and fire burning at the tips of his hair. He couldn’t really hear himself think until his ears were ringing.

Slipping out of their shitty motel room was easy enough, given that they’d thrown so much cash at the manager his eyes had nearly popped out of his skull. It made them more memorable, but also guaranteed that the man wouldn’t bother them for less than the next apocalypse. It probably helped that Roadhog’s chain hook had been quite visibly glinting on his belt when they checked in. 

Said chain was currently tucked into a small backpack Hog had pulled on, as tiny as it could be without showing the whole shape of the weapon inside. They didn’t need to stand out more than they already were going to- Junkrat planned to get pissing drunk during the function, after they’d set the charges. Their target was one of the parties sponsors, a suit who’d been very public about backing the relocation of Omnics in Australia. He didn’t know much else about this mission besides the fact that no one was supposed to get out alive; Roadhog had presented it to him, for a change, setting the file on Junkrat’s lap as they rode down the highway. There hadn’t been any information about the pay rate or anything like that, but he trusted the big lug not to do any work for free. Besides, getting to blow up a whole government building? The day he passed up on that opportunity would be the day he was cold in the ground with worms chowing down on his body.

Roadhog kept his head down as they made their way to the building, eyes affixed permanently to the pavement. Although he was a hulking figure, the lack of streetlights in the poorer part of town made it easy to lurk about in the shadows. No one wandering around here made it much of a habit to look strangers in the face. 

“So, ah… Good thing we planned this out in advance, yeah? It’d be pretty hard to do off the cuff.”

No reaction, but he hadn’t expected one. His giggles echoed off the walls around him as Junkrat rubbed his prosthetic arm gingerly, unused to the smooth feeling of metal and not the dirty tarnish of rust and ash. Polishing the thing was a bitch, but since he was bothering to dress up for this event, he might as well go for the package deal.

“Fuck, I ‘ate wearin’ this stupid thin’…” He muttered to himself, glancing sideways at his partner to take another look at Roadhog in his suit. His hair was clean and he’d actually bothered to shave, mouth pulled down into a frown. For a second, Jamie felt bad about talking him into taking off his mask. But only for a second- his eyes focused on the other man’s lips and it was difficult not to stare.

It took running straight into Mako’s outstretched hand for him to force his eyes away. Junkrat blinked, stepped back, and looked around, realizing they’d made it to their destination without him realizing it. The backside of the building looked far less glamourous than the front probably did- one group got glass and marble, velvet ropes and the flashes of cameras. The Junkers got hot air blowing in the wind, laden with the scent of four dumpsters crowded together.

Inhaling deeply, he let a grin spread across his face so wide it hurt the corners of his mouth. This suited them just fine.

“Climb on.” Roadhog rumbled and held out one huge, large hand for him. Somehow, he felt himself light up even more. Crouching carefully on the offered palm, he held his bag clasped firmly to his chest. While Junkrat didn’t entirely fit, he was so skinny that most of his gangly body had a reasonable chance of making it at least partially up the building. That was good enough for him and Hog. Besides, the chain hook had at least fifty pounds on him and Roadie tossed the sucker about like it was nothing.

“Ready? Launch!”

Roadhog reared back and hurled the smaller junker through the air like a baseball, throwing him at least halfway up the building. Junkrat screamed with laughter as he flew, robotic arm stuck out in front of him to dig into the concrete. He’d made a few modifications for this mission, adding extra strength and grip power so that he could hang from the side of the building without worrying about falling off. The downside was that he only had one arm with which to prime the charge, but he’d worked in worse conditions.

When he was sure he had a full grip on the wall, Junkrat dug around in his bag and pulled out one of the charges, already prepped with an adhesive. Whistling as he worked, the Junker applied it to the side of the wall and held it in place for a minute before gingerly pulling his hand away, ready to drive for the stupid thing if it hadn’t stuck fast.  
Luckily, he didn’t have to. After a fist pump for no one’s benefit but his own, Junkrat returned to priming the charge, setting it to denote in an hour and a half, 12:30 pm. All the guests of honor would have arrived by then, yet the hour was too early for them to go home; perfect for catching them all unawares. He and Roadie would watch the fireworks from a relatively safe distance, a practice he’d only started when he’d hired the big lug, and then they’d speed off to collect their cash. 

Turning away from the building, he waved at Roadie and watched the larger man pull the chain out of his bag. 

This job just kept getting better and better.

One by one, Junkrat pulled his fingers out from the concrete. The thumb was the last to go and he giggled once he felt it disconnect, spreading his arms wide and free-falling through the air. Mad laughter spilled out of him as he experienced the sensation of wind rushing through his hair. The sensation was not unlike riding on Roadhog’s motorbike, only with less flies smashing against his face and more growing scent of garbage. While only a few seconds had passed, it felt like minutes. 

Junkrat opened his eyes and stared at the stars as Roadhog’s chain wrapped around his middle, pulling him sharply off-course and away from a collision with the cold concrete of the street. The breath was knocked out of him at the sensation and he found himself snatched out of the air by Hog. As soon as the young man got his air back he was laughing, writhing in Mako’s grip, imagining himself flying like that at least five more times tonight. 

“What a lovely day!” He choked out between his giggles, looking up at Hog with pupils blown wide and euphoria stretched across his face. Adrenaline still coursed through his system, and later he’d look back on that as the reason for his actions, trying to justify to himself why he caught sight of Roadhog’s lips again and leaned up to kiss him.

It was fast, because Hog jerked back in surprise almost as soon as Jamie’s lips touched his. Junkrat was dumped unceremoniously on the street and he cried out at suddenly finding himself on his ass, staring up at the most expressive face he’d ever seen Roadhog make. Did it mean something that he couldn’t tell what kind emotion it represented?

“Well, tha’ was a fine welcome back to Earth…” He muttered quietly, pulling himself off the ground and dusting off the suit once again. The thing was going to be ruined before he even set foot near the bar, something that seemed to be his specialty. Roadhog was still staring and Junkrat flushed, brandishing his bag of explosives like a weapon and a shield all in one.

“Ya could’ve set these off, mate! There’s still five of ‘em left to plant!” 

The bigger man turned on his heel and strode away from him quickly, leaving Junkrat staring after him with a dumbfounded expression. He replayed the whole scene in his mind, shame and embarrassment flooding through him no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. 

What had he been thinking? It had just been a spur of the moment thing, something to celebrate what was surely going to be a successful job. It didn’t mean anything. 

That thought is what sent him scurrying after Mako, who seemed to have stopped below the next site they’d planned to place an explosive. The night was ruined now, but at least there’d probably be an explosion at the end.


End file.
